


look at my son

by ScarletPotter



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony finds out that Peter is Spiderman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletPotter/pseuds/ScarletPotter
Summary: Tony and Steve find out that Peter is Spiderman.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 192





	look at my son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkerxheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerxheart/gifts), [parkrstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/gifts).



> Hey guys, long time no write! Well, here's a fic that was inspired by one of @parkrstark's prompts, but I changed it up a bit, so yeah. This is one of my favorite pieces I've ever written, so enjoy!

Peter Stark-Rogers had a secret that no one else knew about him; he was New York’s one and only vigilante-Spiderman. And not a single person knew of his double life, as he kept his identity a close secret in order to protect his identity, as well as the people that he cared the most for, his Dads. 

He planned on telling his dads about his superhero life, but he just wasn’t sure how to. Whenever he tried to tell his dads the words would get stuck in his throat and his hands would twitch. A part of him was nervous, what if his dads would be angry at him for hiding such a big part of him for over a year? Or maybe they would be upset that Peter was Spiderman, putting himself in constant danger as a superhero. Maybe his dads didn’t even like Spiderman, and saw him as a potential enemy. His dads knew of his abilities from the spider bite, but not what he was using them for. 

The teenager let out a soft sigh as he sat at the foot of his bed eyeing the red and blue spandex suit hanging in the very back of his closet. Designing the suit was one of the best parts, he could put as much tech as he wanted, but when it came to the colors, he had hit a stump. He wanted to accurately express himself, a literal combination of his dad and papa. And then he got it, a bold cherry-red metallic from his dad’s Iron Man suit, and a softer, cooler hue of blue found on his papa’s Captain America suit. He decided to flip on the TV when he read that The Vulture was terrorizing city streets. 

A smile crept up Peter’s lips,  _ his calling. _ He ensured that his door was locked as he changed into his suit and backflipped out his bedroom window. Peter’s smile widened as he swung from rooftop to rooftop, a fresh supply of adrenaline coursed through his veins sent a well-welcomed wave of exhilaration tingling inside the hero. And within a matter of minutes, Spiderman swooped in front of The Vulture who menaced, “Get out of here, pest!” 

Peter rolled his eyes despite his mask concealing it,  _ spiders aren’t pests. I mean c’mon. _ He ducked as The Vulture lunged towards him, just missing his head. The teen quipped as he threw a punch at his nemesis, “Criminals are really overrated.” 

The Vulture retorted as he swiped at Peter with one of his wings, the contact drawing blood, and bruises, “Says the boy pretending to be a superhero.” 

Peter ignored Toomes’ words sending a firm roundhouse kick towards the man’s blaster, sending the device clattering to the ground some yards away.  _ Huh, self-defense training with Nat really does pay off. _ The teenager let out a grunt as he twisted to get the wings off the man who merely used them to send Peter spiraling to the ground. 

The impact was harder than he expected, causing an odd sound to escape his thin pink lips as he felt his lungs clench around nothing. He didn’t need to see his skin to feel the bruises forming all over. He winced as he slowly stood back up, bringing his fists in front of his face. He addressed Toomes, “I can do this all day.” 

Toomes chuckled as he firmly punched Peter in the nose drawing trickling blood, “I’m sure you can.” He lunged for the vigilante, talon-like claws digging into Peter’s flesh. 

Peter stifled a scream as pain shot through his form, tearing holes in his suit in the process. He moved to free himself, but Toomes only held tighter onto a dangling bloody and bruised Peter Stark-Rogers. 

The elder man chuckled darkly as he punched Peter in the nose harder, breaking it. He tutted, “Not so strong now, huh?” He repeatedly kicked Peter in the back, causing the teenager to grunt. With a final kick, Peter was released from Toomes’ claws and went pummelling to the ground. 

Another odd sound escaped Peter’s lips as he felt the breath get knocked out of him as his small form crashed onto cold, hard concrete. His face had blood running down the side of it, as his limbs were weakly outstretched. Peter felt hazy as everything around him spun and blurred, creating an unwelcome wave of nausea that crept up this burning throat. The bruised teenager made no effort to move, feeling nothing but a repetitious sharp, stabbing pain. 

Toomes only snickered from above as he flew away. 

After he was sure Toomes was gone, Peter bit his lip stifling a pained groan as he slowly stood up. He immediately regretted doing so as the stabbing pain inside him intensified tenfold. He swayed, nearly falling onto his knees as he mumbled in an attempt to ease the blurriness away, “I need to get home.” 

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain full consciousness despite the black dots dotting the corners of his eyes. He forced his eyes to widen as he swung from rooftop to rooftop, launching himself onto the first window on his floor that he saw. He was so exhausted that his silk streams gave way as he landed onto the living room in the Avengers common room. 

He tiptoed as he headed back to his room, careful as to not wake anybody up. Peter let out an exhausted sign as he swiped his mark off, revealing messy, disheveled locks of chocolate-colored hair. His eyes were drooping half-shut and he was so exhausted that he didn’t even realize that he had walked into the waiting arms of Tony Stark. 

And just as his dad’s arms enclosed around him pulling him into a hug, it hit him. Peter was being held by his dad,  _ in his suit _ .

Peter was going to speak when Tony spoke gently as he carded the former’s hair, “Hey little buddy. It’s okay. FRIDAY said that you were hurt. I’m not mad, in fact, neither me nor papa are upset at you.” 

Peter opened his mouth to speak when his trembling legs gave way and the well-beyond exhausted teenager hiccuped as he clutched onto his dad, lowly whimpering. Tony caught Peter’s legs before they could hit the ground, scooping his boy up and bringing him to his chest. The hand that wasn’t holding him continued to gently tug on his stubborn curls as Tony asked softly, “Rough day?” 

Peter answered with a yawn as he rested his weary head into Tony’s sturdy shoulder, “Mhm. Falling hurts.” The teenager moved his hands to rub his red-rimmed eyes mumbling, “‘m tired, wanna sleep.” 

Tony nodded with a hum, “Don’t fall asleep yet, bud. I know you’re tired but we gotta make sure you’re all patched up first, all right? Papa has a fresh set of clothes waiting for you.” 

Just as the Avenger said that, he entered the room that he and Steve shared. Steve had just finished piling up blankets and pillows spoke lovingly in Peter’s favorite papa bear tone, “Hey Peter, I got a fresh pair of clothes for you, how’s that sound?” 

Peter nodded as Tony laid him onto the bed. He needed to know so he asked, “You guys aren’t mad that I’m Spiderman?” He cast his watering eyes down ashamed, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner.” His facial features contorted into a wince as he changed into his favorite sweatshirt, the oversized maroon one that he stole from his dad, and his softest oversized pajamas that his papa had loaned him from a while back. The outfit never failed to help Peter feel better whenever he was in a mood, and this time was no different, the comfort had Peter practically sinking into it, a much better difference that his peeled off spandex of a suit. 

Tony answered Peter’s inquiry as he moved to sit closer to his son, “Bud, how can we be mad at you for being a hero? We’re so proud of you and we always are and will be. You’re our best boy, bambino, and nothing will ever change that.” He pressed a firm kiss to Peter’s bruised cheek. 

Steve continued as he rubbed a patch of Peter’s skin through the sweatshirt material, “And as for not telling us before, we’re not upset, we promise. We wish we knew earlier so we could make sure you were okay, but what matters is that we know now and you’re okay. Which means that we can train you better, and,” he smiled, “Spiderman is our newest addition to the Avengers.” 

A worn smile tugged on Peter’s lips as he prodded, “Really?” 

Tony nodded with a warm smile accompanied with a nod, “Yep, Let’s patch you up, yeah? What hurts the most?”

Peter shrugged, “Hurts all over. Mainly on my arms and chest. I think my nose is already healing” He leaned against his dad’s chest, using it as a pillow as his papa began to examine his injuries. 

Steve took a quick look and pulled out a small ice pack and placed it gently over Peter’s already healing nose and moved one of Peter’s hands to rest against the ice pack. He smiled warmly to his son, “Here you go muffin, that should help with the hurt.” He turned to Peter’s chest, raising his son’s sweatshirt a few inches as well as on his arms. 

Tony pulled Peter onto his chest, one hand brushing his son’s stubborn chocolate-tinted curls out of the latter’s face while the other rubbed against a patch of skin on Peter’s forehead, helping his son unwind from the day’s exhausting events. He murmured as he kissed the top of Peter’s head, “We’re so proud of you bambi, so proud.” Meanwhile, Steve got to ensuring that his baby boy was a-okay regardless of his super-healing factor. Some good ol’ t.l.c. never hurt, instead easing the fathers’ worries.

Peter was littered in heavy black and blue bruises and thin pink cuts that were already in the process of healing. He leaned into Tony’s hold as he asked Steve who pulled out a first-aid kit, “Do the others know?” 

Steve replied as he rubbed ointment onto his son’s bruises, “No, we figured we could tell them when you’re ready. We didn’t want to overwhelm you, it’s funny, a part of me always thought that you were Spidey, but we didn’t say anything because we didn’t want to worry you. And we’re so proud of both of you. It’s hard being a superhero alone, and now we’ve got you.” The veteran smiled warmly as he pulled down Peter’s sleeves, chuckling as he noticed the latter struggle to stay awake, “Almost done bear, I know you’re exhausted. We can sleep for as long as you want.” 

Peter nodded sheepishly as he leaned into his dad’s hold, cherishing the tender moment between the Stark-Rogers family. He lazily smiled as Steve pressed a kiss on his stomach as he pulled the boy’s shirt material down, “All done bear. You did so good. What do you need?” That was their check-in question, to make sure that they were truly okay. 

Peter mumbled as Steve lifted the covers over them, “Can you guys just hold me?” 

Steve nodded, pulling the worn teenager into his arms, “Of course we can.” He rubbed Peter’s back while Tony continued to fiddle with the boy’s hair, and within five minutes, Peter was sound asleep tucked between the haven of his dads’ arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> don't forget to leave a comment and kudos! :)


End file.
